


Remorse

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode Tag, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-10
Updated: 2002-02-10
Packaged: 2019-05-15 03:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14782901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: a little vignette about Sam and Donna, during-and-post-ep forSomebody's Going to Emergency...





	Remorse

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

   


 

**Remorse**

**by: Allison**

**Character(s):** Sam, Donna  
**Category(s):** Post-Episode  
**Rating:** YTEEN  
**Summary:** A little vignette about Sam and Donna, during-and-post-ep for SGTE, SGTJ  
**Spoiler:** SGTE, SGTJ 

Another betrayal. That was what he'd thought when it first came to him. The third so far - more, probably, if he really thought about it. And it hurt worse because it wasn't even really an act of betrayal, it was a thought - internalized, and uncontrollable, and unintentional, just there. That was the real issue - how someone he counted a friend could... and he couldn't even be angry, although he'd tried, because you can't control a thought. Having an opinion could not be someone's fault. Even when that opinion was wrong, and hurt.

Was it wrong? He'd thought about that long and hard while he was tossing suger packets. He wasn't that kind of egomaniac, was he? Josh never treated him that way - as if he had to be flattered - and certainly Mallory never had. In fact, he'd liked Mallory because she never flattered him. Ever. But Ainsley had tried it - had openly admitted to trying it - and it had worked. Had it worked because he was that vulnerable to flattery, or because he liked Ainsley and would have given in anyway with enough of an excuse? Certainly he had enjoyed her little flirtation, enough to actually tell Leo about it. But Ainsley was on a whole different level; with her he felt he had to keep the upper hand because she was far too good at making him look stupid. That shouldn't happen with ordinary - with friends.

And on the other hand, Stephanie Gault had gotten to him. Right where she'd aimed. So right or wrong, it had worked. It worked. A sugar packet ricocheted off the rim with a ping.

His anger seethed under the surface. He couldn't deal with her right now. He was seriously afraid that he might stop throwing things across the room and start throwing them at her, and he was glad they were only sugar packets. But it wasn't anger; it was hurt, and it got out.

His question struck its target easily; she recoiled, looked repentant, apologized, confessed. But it didn't matter. Apologizing after the betrayal didn't make it less of one. People nominated for an executive pardon had to show remorse, but it didn't mean they hadn't committed the crime. It just meant the government was going to forgive them for it. But probably not forget about it.

And then she got angry, and under his skin he knew why. He knew she was protecting her friend. And he couldn't let her get under his skin because she had already hurt him once and he needed to push her away. But he made a mistake and the last look on her face wasn't anger, it was sadness. And it was that look he couldn't get out of his mind when her friend stood before him, eyes wide and hopeful, begging him to give her good news. Along with the look he saw over Stephanie's shoulder, half hidden in the shadows - not sadness, not pity anymore, but trust. It was the look that told him she still trusted him to be the good guy, whatever else she might - it was the look that meant he couldn't disappoint her. So he lied, and saw her shoulders sag in relief and her eyes close for a moment in silent thanks. And she took that as her cue to wander in, as a signal that it was okay to be here, and when she quietly said, "Sam's the man," he heard the sadness in her voice and knew it wasn't pity. It wasn't sadness for him at all that he heard, it was sadness of her own because she knew she had hurt him. And that was why he couldn't hate her, because what he saw in her eyes was that it wasn't an empty apology, but that she understood and felt the hurt and regretted it. And he heard in her voice the recognition of their relationship and knew she had interpreted his signal, his "three months" reference, and knew he was talking to her.

And as he stood blinking back the furious tears at his own lying father he saw her face and knew she was going to hold him, and that he was going to let her. Her little hesitation was because they never did this, but her arms went around him tight and hard and it was both thanks and apology, and he accepted whatever she was offering. Because she had seen him finally break down she could do what no one else had, and he was thinking about his father and forgot she had betrayed him and for that moment she was his lifeline. She rocked him back and forth the tiniest bit and her arms stayed firm and her skin and hair were soft against his cheek, and he buried his face in her shoulder and allowed himself to be soothed. And because he felt that she loved him he opened up again and told her what he hadn't admitted to anyone else, that his father's betrayal had shaken his world to the core. She was sweet, and made him laugh, and when they pulled apart what he saw in her eyes was connection, and acceptance, and her smile was infectious. And still, just a little bit, knowing that she loved him made it hurt that much more.

It was because her mask slipped while they were talking in the bar that he decided to bring it up. Josh was still harping on almost being killed, and because he was watching he caught the instantaneous, over-as-soon-as-it-happened look of fear as her heart stopped and her face paled and then she remembered that it was a joke and it was okay to breathe. Because he was pretending, and so was Toby, that he hadn't seen her brush her hand against Josh's thigh a moment later to make sure he was really there. Because he knew what Josh didn't yet. And because he had known that night what Josh was missing. That was why he brought it up, when Josh and Toby had gone to order another round. His voice said softly, "I'm not like that," and her hand stopped tracing circles on the wooden table and her eyes met his, and she said again, "I'm sorry."

"I know you are," he said gently, sadly, because he saw that she was. "But you can only apologize for what you told her - and not even for that, because I know you were trying to do everything you could to help her. You can't apologize for having a thought."

He thought she might cry. Her blue eyes tightened up and glistened as they had down in the Mess, and alcohol always made her sentimental. He could see that his hurt was giving her pain, and that made his pain worse - because if someone who loved him this much could think he was an egomaniac, there was probably some reason to believe he was.

"I don't think you're like that, Sam," she said finally, and he was the one who looked over her shoulder to make sure Josh and Toby weren't coming back yet to find her crying. "I don't think you're one of those swelled up politicians who won't do anything until they've been sucked up to enough. I don't think you want lip service. I think you want people to like you. And I knew that you'd want Steph to like you, and that that would mean you would try for her. And I used that about you, I used you, and I'm sorry." And her voice almost broke there at the end, and the only thing he could say was, "You manipulated me."

"I did," she said freely. "I manipulate Josh every day. And there's a line between getting things done and being wrong, and I wanted to help Steph because her father was dying and so I crossed it. And I'm sorry."

And there was only one thing he could do then, because even though they never did it she had opened the door, and so he slid forward and pulled her into his arms and said, "No, I'm sorry. I overreacted. It's just..." And his voice hitched and she heard it and she moved her hands to his back so that she was holding him up, and she cradled his head to her shoulder and leaned against him. And Josh and Toby were coming back but she didn't care; she turned so that her mouth was near his ear and she whispered, "I love you, Sam." Had she been merely trying to placate him he would have been nauseated, but he felt her sincerity in the tone of her voice and the tightening of her fingers in his shirt and so he pressed her closer and whispered, "I love you too." Because he had felt her warmth, now and before, and the discovery of it exhilarated him. Because he knew it from Josh, but to feel unconditional love from a woman his own age was new and glowing. And when they pulled apart they smiled at each other again with their noses practically touching, and they were friends. And Josh's half-teasing, half-nervous, "Is there something you'd like to tell us?" broke the spell, and because he heard the nervousness and had seen her face earlier he threw them a line and said, "Yeah, Donna's given up on you 'cause I'm cuter." And Josh laughed and Donna blushed, and he leaned close to her ear to say, "Thank you," before he kissed her cheek. And they got into a conversation about protesters, and when he caught her eye across the table she beamed at him without smiling at all, and he knew it was all right.


End file.
